


A Study in Character; Or, Therapy for the Broken

by Aeshna etonensis (GMWWemyss)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Character Study, Depression, Gen, M/M, Psychologists & Psychiatrists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3925420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GMWWemyss/pseuds/Aeshna%20etonensis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A character study, in which a young man talks through his bewildered grief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Character; Or, Therapy for the Broken

**Author's Note:**

> This is a character study. None of us has a blind bit of knowledge about what is going on with and behind the scenes of A Popular Beat Combo, M’Lud, or the faintest idea of what is happening and how it is experienced. We may have suspicions; we have no facts: indeed, we have un-facts, and everything we think we might know is almost certainly, to a greater or lesser extent, a tissue of lies. The following therefore is the merest fiction; a character study; and not in fact representative of my own suspicions. It was simply something which wanted writing.
> 
> It may be as well to remind readers that ‘bay’ is the abraded Black Country form of ‘bain’t’, which is an older form yet of ‘ain’t’. I think that suffices.

* * *

I know what folk thinks. But I bay a drunk.

Not yet.

He. He used to tell me I weren’t thick, either.

He were wrong.

Sorry. Half a mo’. (I recollect when all I ever popped in to Boots for were more Durex. Now its next anunst to nothing bar tissues.)

Sorry.

I reckoned – after the first gew – I … well, I had to gew back. Simon Bloody Cowell, he’d said, ‘Come back in two years’, and I did.

Thick, I know.

I reckoned if I didn’t.... If I gave over and didn’t _try_.... I reckoned that’d hurt worser.

I’m thick.

Never saw it coming, I didn’t. Never the least notion.

Now, the other-’uns, they bay thick. But they didn’t see it either.

The crash in the finals. Then the sudden rescue and all, and the deal, and the plans. Making stars: of _us:_  us, _stars._  Well, they done that much, anyroadup. We simply didn’t know it were all a sell from the start.

Thought we’d done it on our own. Thick....

But. They did make stars of us. _Us._ With _me_ in it.

But I don’t know as any of us understood what that wanted. What it’d take of us.

I didn’t. But … well. The thick one, bay I? You’dn’t expect _I’d_ see it coming.

I don’t know any longer what’s true and what bay. Fans? Christ, we’re the lads don’t know, worser’n them. What’s real, what bay, where the lies and the stunts end. (’S an American word, ‘stunts’, bay it. I like it. Seems fitten.)

It’s like a birthday every day, bay it. Not the sort of birthdays and parties people like to recollect; I don’t mean that. ’S like _my_ birthday every day. Me sixteenth.

I thought. Well, we know who’s the thick ’un; but I thought, I did, true … I thought this were it. The bad times were in the past. Folk liked us; liked _me,_ even. And. I’d friends now. _Friends._ And then more’n that, four _brothers._

Christ. Speak of bein’ thick.

I thought … I thought I’d figured it out. Got it put on me permanent to say so. Four chevrons for four brothers, too, best mates and a bit more.

They think we don’t see. But we do.

I just don’t allus understand what I do see. He used to lecture me, he did, he’d tell me I weren’t thick.

Looks as if we was wrong, both of us.

But we see. We see the pain and the werriting and all. Might as well be a mirror to us and ours.

The lads have tried to explain it to me. I hear them. I know what they’re saying. But – well. Thick, bay I? It don’t seem somehow to make sense.

He allus said I weren’t thick.

He allus said he’d be right next to me, too.

They think we don’t see. But even I see. Oh, there’s folk werriting over it. Over Tommo and Haz and Nialler, and how they’re doing, and every scrap of it. And we all werrit over _him._

I don’t expect anyone to werrit over me. No, I don’t. Why would they?

It bay his fault.

I bay Haz, or Tommo, or Niall. Or him. I were never really good enough to be one of them, anyroadup. No reason anybody’d spare two thoughts for me.

I bay that important. He were my friend. He were more’n my _friend_. But that doesn’t signify. L’arnt a long time since that friends – and more – don’t stay. Not with me. Oh, Maz, all right, and Andy. But. What do I have to offer? Thick, and hopeless, and all. I bay exciting. I know who’s in it for the money and the glitter and the spotlight.

Never was able to keep a friend or a girlfriend on me own, bar that, was I.

Or _with_ it, seems.

’Course I don’t blame him. He’d a job to do, and obligations, just as I did. Do. Don’t mean he weren’t me friend. And more. Just means he’d other responsibilities.

I were just too thick to see that, until I were hit over the noggin with it.

He never lied to me. Weren’t his fault he couldn’t stay. Right next to me. He meant it when he said it.

He never lied to me. He were wrong, thinking I bay thick, but that’s what he truly did think.

They keep us apart now when they can. It bay easy on Haz and Tommo. They miss him. And it bay easy, them not able hardly the one to comfort the other ’un, being kept mostly apart so the fans don’t see nothing. And it bay easy for Niall, any of this. He does do his best, but....

I just weren’t good enough, I reckon. Like when I were sixteen. If I’d done better, _were_ better, maybe we’d not all of us have to gew through this.

They think we don’t see, but we do. I know how everybody werrits over how he is, and how Nialler is coping, and Tommo and Haz.

It’s good of them to werrit. I make sure the lads feel it. I think it helps them cope, all four.

Me? Oh, I bay anyone to werrit for. I weren’t thick I’d’ve known it’d happen. Allus has done.

I bay too thick to know why they have me here, talking. Mum and Dad, they do werrit; _and_ me sisters. Roo, specially: werriting’s allus been Our Roo’s speciality. And – well, bay I the babby of the family? ’Course they werrit.

Reckon they werrits I’ll find a bottle, and a ledge. Or lay down in the ’oss-road and wait for a lorry.

What’s that, Miss? I mean, Doctor: sorry. Oh. Well, I don’t know if _she_ does, or even knows. It bay that sort of relationship. She bay me actual girlfriend, you see. No, I never have had, not really. There was one time when I _thought_ I had, but. Well. Bit thick, me. I don’t … these things don’t … I bay exciting enough and all, you see. And I bay clever, either, so.... People don’t stay. He did, of course, long as he were allowed, but that were different, what we had. I were just too thick to know it had to end the same way as it allus does do.

But about this werriting I’ll do something daft, and hurt meself. I bay a-gewing to do that. What’d be the point? I’ve no right to complain.

He done right by me long as he could do. Sorry: I’m a-gewing through your entire box of tissue. I’ll replace it, I will, really.

The lads, they tell me, It’s almost over; Not much longer now; Back to normal soon. Thick I may be, but I can’t see it. But that don’t signify.

It’s like Tommo’s tat says. Bist what it bist.

I bay no one to merit more’n what I have. Don’t merit half of it.

I thought I’d figured it out, but – used to getting things wrong. Ought to be, by now. Allus have done. Went back to the _X-Factor,_ didn’t I? Thought as how it were all finally coming right, too.

Thick, thick, _thick._

I bay clever like the lads – and he were the cleverest, as well as the best of us all. He’ll gew far: and deserves to do. If that means gewing far without me holding him back, he deserves that, too. I bay one to say he ought to be right by my side when he can gew, deserves to gew, some place better and more exciting, some place he deserves to be.

I bay clever like the lads, even bar him. Haven’t their talent, or their charm, or that. They’ll gew on and on, as they deserve to do. Whatever happens. Even if this do turn out all a stunt. I don’t know who to believe on that any longer.

Thick I may be, though, I still can’t see how it all gets back to where it were, or better.

But that don’t signify. They deserve everything; deserve to gew far, and will do. I bay one to hold them back, tie them to me, weight them down. Specially him.

’D think I’d’ve l’arnt by now. ’D think I’d’ve l’arnt that when I were sixteen.

I weren’t thick I’d’ve – ‘figured it out’: back when I were young.

I had him, for a while, as a friend – _me,_ with a _friend_ – and a brother, and more’n either for a bit. I’ve had three other friends and brothers for a few years. Who else can say that? Of these lads, these golden, golden lads? Damn’ few – beg pardon, Miss. _Doctor_. Why would I kick and scream now? They done right by me, all of them, long as they could do. More’n I merited.

They all done well by me, and him most of all. And – it all ended tomorrow fortnight, I’ve my bit put aside. Don’t need to gew down the Jag plant, now, and sign on, do I.

Bay no cause to werrit over me, any more’n the fans and such does. He and I, us were closest for a bit, but that don’t signify: the other ’uns are hurting, too, and better that folk werrit for them, they deserve it.

I’ve no ground to grumble. I’d more’n I merited for longer’n I ought ever to’ve dreamt.

I were simply too thick to know it until it were gone. No: I were too thick to know it’d gew like it allus does do. There bay nobody to blame for that – least of all him – bar meself.

Only thing he were wrong about _when_ he said it, were when he said I bay thick. He simply didn’t know better.

Used to it by now, bay I? It’s like a birthday party, every day.

Reckon I’ll l’arn someday.

Figure it out.

Pills, Miss – Doctor, as I should say? Well. If you say so. I don’t want them, but … you’re the doctor. No, I don’t mind. Thick and all, it don’t much signify if I’m a bit mazed and sleepy at first.

Next week? Oh, I’m sure they’ll get me here. Can’t keep me own schedule, me. Not nowadays. I used to do, for all of us. Felt I were contributing something; too thick to know, you see, it were all kept already, by _them._ But – well. I let them do all that now. I don’t say I like it, having them do all that and know everything, but. He used to keep me personal schedule for me: he bay thick, you see. Clever, he is. But now … well. I’m sure they’ll have me here.

Yes, Miss – Doctor. At 3.15. I’ll let them know – you might tell them as well. I try to be responsible, but … well, you know. _Thick._

 

* * *

 


End file.
